On Duties: The Legends of the Steel Wardens (Space Marines Shorts)
by Zine40K
Summary: The Adeptus Astartes are the greatest warriors of the Imperium, but what does duty truly mean for them? What lessons can mortal men learn from their legends? Here, released for the first time, are a selection of combat actions by one such Chapter - the Steel Wardens of Forge World Cuxehaven. (Short Story Collection, part of the "Vae Victis" series)
1. A Boarding Action

**Author's Note:**

This is a collection of short stories written for the Heresy Online forums, which hosts a monthly competition featuring Warhammer 40K short fiction (1000 word stories), which I participated in regularly.

All of these stories feature the Steel Wardens Space Marine Chapter, which was featured in my first Warhammer 40K fic, "Legacy of Steel" ( which you can also find here in this site ), which is part of the "Vae Victis" series that I'm writing.

In many ways, this is an attempt to create something similar to the "Brothers of the Snake", which was originally a collection of short stories, before they were compiled together to form a full novel.

I'll be updating this as I enter more stories for the Heresy Online competitions. But enough from me. Time for some good old Space Marine bolter action! :)

* * *

**A Boarding Action**

"_Nigra Mortis! Nigra Mortis!_"

Brother-Sergeant Pontius tried his best to ignore the infernal chanting. The vox-net had been secured from scrapcode incursions. The squad was already reciting the Litany of Purity. But it was all to no avail; the damn warp-spawned voice was speaking the words directly into their minds.

Another group of misshapen forms appeared down the corridor. They were terrible, bloated beings that were leaking pus and excrement. They were the remnants of the derelict ship's crew, who were suffering an agony worse than death.

Pontius freed them from their pain with three bursts of his boltgun.

"The Estimates are growing worse by the minute, Brother-Sergeant!" said his second-in-command, Brother-Logis Archmides, "We require decisive action!"

A fresh wave of the warp-maddened crew appeared ahead of the Pontius team, while more shambled towards them from behind. Other Steel Wardens took up positions and began gunning them down, while the Brother-Sergeant held off on making his decision. To push forward, he knew that somebody had to be left behind.

"Novice Felix!" Pontius shouted, turning to the young Astartes, "I know this is your first Quest with us, but you will have the honor of serving as the rearguard."

"Understood, Brother-Sergeant," Felix replied with no hint of emotion in his voice.

"I will not lie to you. You will not survive."

Felix snorted under his helmet, "Don't be so sure, Brother-Sergeant. I am not so easy to kill."

Pontius ignored the snide remark, "Would you like to request any additional war gear?"

"I already have a demolition charge, just in case," Felix replied as he readied his boltgun, "But I would like to ask for a melee weapon, for when the ammunition runs out."

Brother-Sergeant Pontius nodded and drew his blade. It was a fine weapon – a Brennic Psi-sword - but Pontius never liked it very much. Like most of his fellow Steel Wardens, he believed in the primacy of ranged combat.

"A blade from my home world," Felix said approvingly as the Sergeant handed him the weapon, "I thank you for this, Brother-Sergeant. The Emperor Protects."

"And the Omnissiah watches over us," the Sergeant replied, before turning to face the foes blocking their way to the lift, "Pontius Team, on me! Assault Pattern Omega-Two!"

With those four words, each member of the squad instantly knew his place. Brother Manlius took the lead, driving back the horde with shorts bursts from his flamer. A pair of Battle-Brothers marched beside him, their bolters set to single shot, and they expertly picked off any who had survived the flames.

The remaining six Space Marines – Pontius included – followed in their wake to protect the flanks and rear. Every intersection and side-compartment had to be cleared or bypassed. Grenades were used liberally, as was Brother Camilus' Heavy Bolter. It seemed like an eternity before they reached the lifts.

But in reality, it only took them less than fifteen minutes of intense corridor-to-corridor fighting. They had dangerously depleted their supplies of ammunition, and most had suffered some damage to their power armor. But every member of the squad had made it without injury – except one.

The ship shuddered as a demolition charge went off. Pontius did not bother to check his auspex for life signs. Novice Felix had done his duty.

"I have lift controls!" said Brother-Logis Archimedes, just as the doors slammed themselves shut, "We will reach the bridge momentarily!"

"My fellow Wardens, prepare yourselves!" Pontius ordered, "Our warp-spawned foe awaits!"

His men did not reply with words, but with actions. They assumed firing positions. The moment the doors opened, they were ready to unleash a barrage of devastating explosive rounds at whatever monster lurked in the bridge.

Yet somehow, they were still taken by surprise.

As the doors opened, a mass of tentacles suddenly swarmed in. The Space Marines opened fire, but their bolter rounds had little effect. One tentacle wrapped itself around Archimedes' head and popped it like a melon. Brother Camilus shouted as something grabbed him by the leg and dragged him into the center of the swirling mass. Blood and Ceramite spurted out after it swallowed him whole.

"Keep firing! Keep firing!" Pontius shouted, as the monster grabbed two more Marines and consumed them. Manlius tried to hose the daemon with flames, only to be slapped backwards by one of the tentacles.

Finally, in desperation, Pontius primed a Melta-Bomb and threw it at the daemon-thing's mouth. If his team was fated to die, then they were going to take _Nigra Mortis_ with them.

Everything went white as the bomb went off. Pontius felt himself thrown off his feet, and he landed somewhere hard and painful. Bones were broken, and he suspected that he had also suffered internal injuries. By some miracle, the auspex still functioned, and revealed to him that three of his men had survived the gambit, albeit they were all unconscious.

But then Pontius realized they were not the only ones to survive the blast. Writhing in agony, with half of its mass torn off, _Nigra Mortis_ was still alive.

Pontius tried to reach for his boltgun, but the enraged daemon smashed it to pieces before he could do so. The daemon grabbed his arms, and then his legs. It held him aloft, spread-eagled, before once again shouting its name.

"_Nigra Mortis!_"

Pontius did not close his eyes. He waited for the killing blow.

But instead a blur went past him, and suddenly he was free. A new voice somehow drowned out the daemon's screams.

"Vae Victis!" shouted Novice Felix, as he plunged the psi-blade into the heart of the warp-spawned beast. There was a final horrendous scream.

And then finally, silence.

Breathing heavily, Pontius managed to sit up. He stared at Novice Felix – battered and wounded - yet still alive.

"You're supposed to be dead," Pontius said dryly.

"My apologies, Brother-Sergeant," Felix replied snidely, "But our calculations are called "Estimates" and not "Certainties" for a reason."

"And how did you get up here so quickly?" Pontius wanted to know.

"Stairs, sir," Felix answered with a shrug, "Good, strong, steel stairs."

It was Pontius' turn to snort under his armor. "Very well. Inform the fleet that we have accomplished our Quest."

"Only a full Battle-Brother is allowed that honor," Felix pointed out.

"Indeed, _Battle-Brother_ Felix," Pontius explained.

Underneath his armor, no one could see Felix's proud smile. He was still smiling as he spoke into the vox.

"This is the Pontius team, our Quest is complete. This ship is no longer the _Nigra Mortis_. This ship is once again the _Might of Akkadia_."


	2. Victory or Death

**Victory or Death**

The Imperial trenches were almost overrun, but Battle-Brother Felix felt no fear or concern. He was still too busy killing greenskins.

His bolter was set to single-shot, and his last five rounds were profitably spent. Five mass-reactive shells were sent into the heads of five different Orks. One somehow survived, ready to fight on despite losing an eye and a quarter of its skull, only to be decapitated outright as Felix switched to his Brennic Psi-Sword.

But another group of Orks quickly appeared to replace the ones the Space Marine had slain. Without hesitation, Felix charged them and began hacking away at the fresh mob. They stood little chance before his fury. Hearts were pierced. Spines were severed. Arms, legs, and heads were lopped off.

Felix simply would not stop. He could not until victory was achieved. And he knew that the only way to defeat the relentless greenskins was complete and utter annihilation: Kill them all and burn the bodies until nothing was left but ash.

Even more Orks suddenly appeared behind him, intent on putting an end to his stubborn defiance. Felix ignored them and continued hacking away at his current targets, for the auspex revealed that he was no longer fighting alone. The Imperial Guard had finally found its backbone.

Led by a red-haired Commissar, two platoons of Akkadian infantry joined the fray and enveloped the fresh mob of xenos foes. Despite having only lasguns and bayonets, the Akkadians gave their all and slaughtered the remaining Orks. Felix raised his sword to salute them once the last of the enemy was dead.

"The Emperor Protects!" Felix shouted.

"And the Omnissiah watches over us!" replied the Commissar, familiar with the standard greeting of Felix's Chapter. The Astartes smiled under his helmet, briefly wondering about the Commissar's background and education, but he knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.

"More Orks will come," Felix said simply, "We must restore the defensive readiness of this sector immediately."

"My apologies, but we must withdraw," the Commissar countered firmly, "Army command has already given the order. All units must fall back to the landing zone."

Felix shook his head, "We have a full company of reinforcements enroute. A hundred Steel Wardens, with heavy armor and air support. My squad was sent here to ensure the Imperial positions were held until they arrived."

The Commissar sighed, as though preparing to argue with the Space Marine, but someone else spoke before he could begin.

"Incoming!" shouted one of the Akkadian troopers, before his head was taken off by a shoota round. Felix muttered a curse as he peered over the trench. The endless horde had found them again.

This was a much larger mob than the ones they had already destroyed. At least five hundred strong, with light vehicle support. The Akkadian troopers were already shooting, but they were outnumbered over ten to one, and their lasguns infamously lacked enough killing power to reliably kill greenskins with one shot.

For a brief moment, Felix allowed his mind to experience disquiet. The Estimates for this Quest had proven completely inaccurate. The Pontius Team was supposed to observe and inspect the Imperial lines in preparation for 2nd Company's arrival in two months. Instead, they found themselves in the midst of a desperate fight as the Orks launched their grand offensive earlier and more fiercely than expected. Felix didn't even know if any of his squad mates were still alive, as he was separated from them early during the fight.

Gripping his sword, he reminded himself that none of this mattered. He was a Space Marine. There was only victory, or death.

Before the Akkadians could stop him, Felix clambered over the top of the trench. Discarding his empty bolt gun, he raised his sword and shouted the war cry of his home world.

"Vae Victis!"

To his surprise, the Orks seemed dumbfounded by his foolhardy bravery. They recoiled in terror as he ran towards them with his sword drawn. Five hundred Orks were seemingly afraid of a single Astartes.

Even brave Battle-Brother Felix knew that this was impossible. Orks did not scare easily. A moment later, he understood why.

"You're supposed to be dead," a voice noted dryly over the vox. Smirking, Felix stopped in his tracks and jumped down the nearest crater. He made it just in time.

Flying low overhead, a Thunderhawk gunship unleashed its fury on the Orkish horde. Heavy cannon shells and dazzling beams of light struck the enemy formation, shredding dozens of greenskins to pieces. Among the dead was their warlord, whose death started a precipitous flight.

It was over in less than two minutes. Nearly half of the enemy force was destroyed before the rest managed to escape. Felix ran towards Thunderhawk as it landed, grasping the hand of the first Warden to emerge from the front ramp.

"It is good to see you sir," Felix said warmly, "I may be hard to kill, but I was definitely stretching the Estimates before you intervened."

Brother-Sergeant Pontius seemed relieved to find his last missing trooper, but grew concerned as he noticed the Akkadians cheering in the trenches.

"We must leave. Immediately," said Pontius, dragging Felix up the ramp.

"Leave?" Felix asked, surprised.

"This world is lost," Pontius said over the secure vox, "The Inquisition has initiated Protocol Omega. It begins in ten minutes."

"Sir, we cannot leave the Akkadians!" Felix answered automatically, though at least having the sense not to broadcast his reply for all to hear, "They fought bravely and aided me. I owe them my life."

"We cannot carry them all," Pontius pointed out, "And we do not have time for them to draw lots."

"But sir…" Felix started, before catching the look in his Sergeant's eye. Pontius didn't want to leave the Akkadians either, but it was clear that he was already grossly violating their orders by coming to rescue Felix. The Logis had undoubtedly already censured him for risking an entire squad to save one Marine.

"… Give me a moment to say farewell," Felix decided instead. Pontius stared at him grimly, but nodded his consent.

Turning to face the Akkadians, Felix saluted sharply. The Guardsmen – their Commissar included – were caught off guard, but quickly returned the gesture.

"We must leave to reinforce another sector," Felix told them, his voice amplified by his helmet, "But other Steel Wardens will soon relieve you. Hold this position until they arrive."

The Commissar nodded, before saying, "I never got to ask your name."

Felix never answered, so bitter was this "victory".

Instead, he turned to board the Thunderhawk.


	3. Was it Enough?

**Was it Enough?**

King Milanovich deserved a better fate. Skalantia had enjoyed seven prosperous decades under his rule. Getting eviscerated and having his remains left hanging from the ceiling like a grotesque chandelier was not a just reward.

But Brother-Sergeant Pontius had little time to ponder about the grisly decorations overhead. He was still in the middle of a life-and-death struggle with the ones responsible for this atrocity.

"Advance!" Pontius ordered, ignoring the fact that the greenskins were still charging at them through the narrow hallway. With practiced precision, the Pontius Team followed his command, meeting the green tide head on and gunning down dozens of the enemy.

Surprised by the ferocity of the Astartes counter-blow, the Orks were thrown back. Veteran Brother Felix then took the lead, drawing his Psi-Sword. His swordsmanship skills were becoming legendary. Even his fellow Space Marines only saw a blur as he hacked and slashed his way through a dozen Orks within seconds.

The enemy was breaking. Pontius could sense it. All that remained now was the cleanup, unless...

The head of poor young Brother Crassus suddenly exploded beside him, having caught a massive Shoota round head-on. There was deafening roar, but Pontius didn't have to turn his head to know the source. The War Boss had finally entered the fight.

Pontius gritted his teeth. This was going to be a challenge. Such a beast was not brought down easily, and the other Orks were already rallying at the sight of their leader.

But to everyone's surprise, the fight ended before it could really begin. A blazing hot plasma round took out the Boss's left eye. A second shot obliterated the other eye, leaving the War Boss blind. Enraged, it began to shoot and stab wildly, accomplishing little but to slaughter most of his remaining troops.

A third shot finally killed the War Boss, obliterating the monster's brain. Felix, killing the few remaining greenskins, walked over and broke the corpse's spine to make sure it was dead.

"Good shot," Pontius admitted, though without much enthusiasm in his voice. Though Brother-Logis Cicero was proving to be an excellent shot with the plasma gun, Pontius never liked him very much. Cicero either spoke bluntly or not at all, and he made little attempt to form a rapport with his Sergeant.

"I believe we have annihilated them, sir," Felix reported as he stepped into the throne room, "Auspex indicates no further Xenos life signs."

"Any survivors from the hostages?" Pontius inquired, though knowing it was unnecessary.

"They are decorating the ceiling just like their king, sir," Felix reported grimly, "But our Thunderhawk is reporting that there is a crowd gathering outside."

"We should leave immediately," Cicero said, "We have accomplished our quest. Meeting the locals will just cause unnecessary delay."

"The crowd is standing between us and the extraction point," Felix pointed out tiredly, "Do you propose that we just ignore them?"

Cicero was about to argue, but Pontius cut him off, "We'll deal with it when we get there. For now, honor our fallen Brother."

Felix and Cicero stared at each other for a moment, but quickly set aside their differences for a higher cause. Together, they carried Crassus' body - flanked by the rest of the Pontius Team - as they began to march back to the Thunderhawk.

As Felix had pointed out, they soon met the crowd at the castle gates. And as Cicero had feared, the crowd was about to cause an "unnecessary delay".

A woman led the crowd, wearing tattered robes. Yet she still had an unmistakable aura of nobility about her, and Pontius recognized her almost immediately. She was Princess Alyastra, daughter of the dead king and the only surviving member of House Milanovich.

There was anger in her eyes. The crowd shared her anger. Pontius felt unease. He did not know what to do.

"Did any of my family survive?" she asked, though the tone of her voice indicated that she already knew the answer.

"They did not, mamzelle," Pontius answered simply.

"And the Orks?" she went on, her tone remaining the same.

"All dead as well," Pontius reported.

A long silence followed, as Alyastra simply stared at Pontius with those angry eyes. It was as though she was saying "Why weren't you here to protect us? Why did you let my father die?"

Finally, Pontius broke the uncomfortable silence.

"We must leave immediately. Our Quest here is complete. We are required elsewhere."

"Very well, I understand," the Princess replied without a hint of sincerity in her voice.

"No you do not," an angry new voice shouted, "You do _not_ understand."

Every pair of eyes turned on Brother-Logis Cicero, even those of his fellow squadmates. The princess and the crowd were enraged. Pontius and his team were mortified. Even with their limited social abilities, they knew this was a horrible faux pas.

But Cicero knew no fear, "We are _not_ Gods. We cannot bring back your dead. We are _not_ priests. We cannot help you grieve. We are _not_ farmers or masons. We cannot help you rebuild."

Cicero then took off his helmet, letting everyone see his face. It may have been handsome once, but it had been terribly scarred when he was still a Novice - fighting Orks in another time and place. His eyes were hard and angry like that of the crowd.

"We are _warriors_. Our only purpose is war. We kill those who try to harm you. We avenge those who have already been harmed. That is _all_ that we can do."

Then, for a brief instance, Cicero's eyes softened. He motioned towards Crassus's lifeless body. There was sadness in his voice as he spoke.

"And when it is time for us to meet the Emperor, we can only ask ourselves: Was it enough?"

Cicero once again donned his helmet. A long silence followed. This time, it was Alyastra who broke it.

"Yes, we understand," she said, before stepping aside to let the Space Marines pass.

The crowd did likewise.

The Pontius Team left Skalantia without further incident.

* * *

Later that night, Princess Alyastra would visit the spot where Brother Crassus had died. They knew because blood and pieces of his helmet had been found on that spot.

She lit a candle, joining many others that had been placed there. Silently, she prayed for the young Marine's soul, even though she did not know his name.

The ritual done, she leaned down and whispered three words to the stones hallowed by hero's blood.

These words were for him alone:

"It was enough."


	4. Where True Loyalties Lie

**Where True Loyalties Lie**

Lord Inquisitor Radkilff knew that he had become a legend. With a career spanning two centuries, he had slain countless foes in the Emperor's name. He showed his devotion by always fighting on the frontlines against the alien, the mutant, and the heretic. Cleansing the world known as Legalus VII was supposed to be no different.

The renegade Guardsmen tried to bar his advance, but their lasfire was useless against his force shield. Calmly, he walked forward in full view of the enemy, slaying foes using his plasma gun and power sword.

"Repent now!" Radkilff declared as he beheaded another Akkadian trooper, who had tried to impale him using a bayonet, "For the Emperor will soon judge you for your treachery!"

Suddenly, the firing stopped. Despite his long experience fighting the enemies of the Imperium, Radkilff was surprised. He didn't expect his words to have any effect on the Traitor Guardsmen.

But a figure emerged that promised to give an explanation. It was a giant encased in grey ceramsteel armor. A Steel Warden. A Space Marine.

"I was not aware that the Astartes have come to aid me," the Inquisitor said as he saluted the Marine, "Have you come in strength?"

"Enough with the charade, Radkilff," the Warden said as he aimed his plasma gun at the Inquisitor, "We know the truth."

"You dare raise arms against me?!" the Inquisitor shouted, only to realize that another Warden had appeared behind him, wielding a two-handed Psi-Sword.

"_You_ created the cult that corrupted Legalus VII," said the second Warden, "And _you_ declared Exterminatus on this world to cover up your treachery!"

Radkilff looked at the sword-wielding Warden and smiled sadly. He dropped his weapons and said, "These are all baseless accusations. Will you now execute an unarmed man to satisfy your pride?"

The remark caught the Warden off-guard. He hesitated from delivering the killing sword-stroke.

And it was all the false Inquisitor needed.

What was once Inquisitor Radkilff uttered a single word, whose origins could not have been human. The sorcerous word struck the Space Marines like an explosion, sending the exposed Wardens flying through the air and revealing the others in their camouflaged positions. Painfully, the Warden who hesitated tried to stand up, seeking to atone for his mistake.

But he didn't need to. The "Traitor" Guardsmen now sprang into action, deploying the heavy weapons they had held in reserve. The thing which was once a champion of the Inquisition screamed as it was pummeled by volleys of autocannons and rocket launchers. Two Leman Russ Tanks then entered the fray, and lobbed their enormous shells at the warp-thing which was now emerging from Radkilff's mangled form. It took fifteen shells in total before the monster was finally reduced to a pile of lifeless pus.

"If I had known you would hesitate, I would have shot the Inquisitor myself," grumbled Brother-Logis Cicero as he walked over to the sword-wielding Marine, "A plasma gun still has a decent chance of penetrating a force-shield."

"My apologies Brother-Logis," Veteran Brother Felix replied as Cicero helped him to his feet, "Fortunately, the Guardsmen prevented my mistake from becoming a fatal one."

The rest of the squad was now emerging, most of them hurt but none fatally. Felix could see that Brother-Sergeant Pontius was already conferring with the commander of the Guardsmen - a young Akkadian Captain with blonde hair and kind blue eyes. Felix felt his heart sink as his superhuman hearing caught their conversation.

"We must leave immediately," Brother-Sergeant Pontius told the Akkadian Captain, "Radkilff may be dead, but the Inquisition will still burn this world in two hours."

"We both know that my troops are never going to get off this planet alive, Warden," the Akkadian replied, "And even if we do, the Commissariat will simply have us shot. We're already traitors as far as the Imperium is concerned, it is better for us to die here as soldiers."

"There must be another way," Felix said as he joined the conversation, the Brother-Logis right behind him. But neither Pontius nor the Akkadian Captain said anything in response.

"Captain, what is the name of your unit?" Cicero finally decided to ask.

"The 105th Akkadian Rifles," the Guard officer replied with a shrug, "We're just a regular Guard regiment."

Cicero shook his head, "No you are not. You are part of the Fifth Founding of your world. You have campaigned honorably for seven years. You already have five battle-honors to your credit: Halon III. The Ma'Ten March. Skalantia. Dusanbay. Omikron Station."

"... And Legalus VII," Felix added quietly.

"And Legalus VII," Cicero agreed, "This is more than enough to confer them the honor of the _Vir Omnibus_, is it not Brother-Sergeant Pontius?"

There was a pause as Pontius considered Cicero's recommendation. The _Vir Omnibus _was an ancient and sacred tome owned by the Steel Wardens. Contained within were the names of countless non-Astartes units that had fought valiantly alongside the Space Marines – some of them dating back to the time of the Legions. Every year, during the Chapter's Founding Anniversary Rites, the names are read out loud – as a reminder that one does not need to be transhuman to know no fear.

He understood the difficult consequences of what the Logis was asking. Nonetheless, the Sergeant nodded. He turned to the Akkadian Captain.

"I am sorry. We cannot save your men," Pontius said, "But this we vow: The Imperium may forget. The Imperial Guard may forget. Your home world and loved ones may forget."

"But _we_ will remember," said the Pontius Team in unison, their voices speaking as one for the entire Akkadian 105th to hear.

The Guardsmen had no response save silence, and a few tears.

Finally, the Space Marines left the Akkadians to their fate. Every member of the 105th would die a soldier's death

* * *

Besides the Akkadians, eleven billion people died needlessly at Legalus VII. The Inquisition would never admit to its mistake.

But the Pontius Team had told the truth to their Chapter Master. After many long deliberations, he decided to defy the rest of the Imperium and honored the 105th Akkadian Rifles by adding them to the _Vir Omnibus_.

Many times the Inquisition asked to have this decision overturned. It came in the form of rational requests, impassioned arguments, and even outright threats.

Yet each time, the Warden's reply was the same:

Your loyalty is to your good name. Our loyalty is to _heroes_.


	5. A Shared Duty

**A Shared Duty**

Battle-Brother Felix knew that the end was coming soon.

The Archenemy had achieved complete orbital superiority. Their ground troops had taken most of the planet. The few remaining Imperial defenders had withdrawn to the capital city, only to find themselves surrounded by an enemy force that outnumbered them ten to one.

But Felix continued to do his duty nonetheless. For once, it did not involve using his sword. Instead, Brother-Sergeant Pontius had assigned him to make a show of force in the city's remaining residential districts - hoping to reassure the civilians and preventing the inevitable panic.

"We should not be here," grumbled Brother-Logis Cicero, who Pontius had also assigned to this task, "It is not our duty to protect these people."

Felix chose not to respond, grateful only that Cicero had used the private vox to voice his misgivings. He and Cicero would never see eye to eye on what it truly meant to be an Astartes. Cicero believed that everyone was but a variable in the cold algebra of war. Felix wanted to be something more than that.

Still, the civilians were wary of them. They feared the two giants encased in ceramsteel almost as much as the thundering roar of artillery fire that was coming ever closer. Only one had the courage to speak to either of them.

A young woman stepped in front of Felix, wearing the blood-stained robes of a Medicae. There was little life left in her eyes as she spoke.

"How goes the battle, Space Marine?"

"We are slowly losing ground, but reinforcements are en route," Felix said, choosing his words carefully. What he said was not entirely a lie, but he sought to change the topic of conversation nonetheless, "How is the situation in this district?"

"We know the truth," the Medicae said bluntly, "Survivors have been streaming in from the adjoining districts. They told me how they were killing everyone. They also told me what they do to the women they capture. I... I don't want those monsters to take me alive."

"A reasonable request," Cicero said suddenly, earning Felix's ire. But Cicero ignored his fellow Space Marine and handed something to the Medicae, "This is a powerful grenade. Three second fuse. Just pull the ring hard, and the end should be quick."

Felix balled his hand into a fist, ready to strike Cicero, but stopped as something caught his ears. Though he did not feel fear, he felt an icy chill in his veins as he recognized the sound.

"Enemy aircraft! Incoming!" Felix shouted, just before the world turned white. Felix felt himself flying through the air, before smashing hard into the ground. He almost blacked out.

But Felix was a Space Marine, and every instinct told him that he would not be waking up again if he allowed the darkness to take him. Painfully, he stood up and drew his sword, in time to witness everything turn into hell.

Renegade Valkyrie aircraft were flying low overhead, dropping their bomb loads on the civilian housing and setting it ablaze. Felix could hear the screams of men, women, and children as they were burned alive - and felt his own heart fill with rage.

But Felix instantly found an opportunity for vengeance. Some of the Valkyries were now dropping troops; to establish an aerial bridgehead to flank the beleaguered Imperial defenders. Felix was about to make sure it would be the last mistake they would ever make in their treacherous little lives.

The next ten minutes of Felix's life would be shrouded in myth and legend. Alone, Felix faced three platoons of elite Harakoni mercenaries and slaughtered them to the last man, without suffering a single scratch in return.

No one knew exactly how. Cicero did not witness what happened, for he was busy setting a record of his own by shooting down seven Valkyries with his plasma gun in the same time period. Felix himself could not exactly recall what he had done, only that he would never again feel such a blissful execution of righteous fury - and that it was Brother-Logis Cicero who had broken him out of that spell.

"There are more of them coming, Brother!" Cicero shouted, grabbing the battle-maddened Felix, "We must warn command of this air-assault!"

"But the civilians!" Felix shot back, ready to charge forward again as another wave of Valkyries appeared.

"It is not our duty to protect them!" Cicero repeated, "Our duty is to make command aware of this new threat!"

Before Felix could argue, lasfire began to bounce off their armor. It was followed by a grenade launcher round that knocked both Felix and Cicero off their feet. Felix cursed as he spotted a fresh squad of Traitor Harakoni advancing towards them, armed with specialist anti-armor weapons to deal with the two Astartes.

But the Archenemy troops never got to use them. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix saw someone running towards the enemy squad.

It was the Medicae.

And she was holding Cicero's grenade in her hands.

Before the Harakoni could react, she was amongst them. They shot her, again and again, but by then she had already pulled the pin.

Felix managed to see her face just before she disappeared in a ball of flame. It was full of relief.

"Enough, Felix! Let her sacrifice be not in vain!" Cicero told him, "Command must be warned!"

Felix did not argue with him this time.

* * *

Ten hours later, the situation had been completely reversed. The promised reinforcements had, for once, arrived earlier than expected. The Imperium had achieved total orbital supremacy. Massed enemy concentrations were being obliterated using orbital fire. The siege on the capital had been broken.

Yet despite the victory, Felix felt disquiet. He found the time to visit the spot where the Medicae had died, only to realize that someone else had the same idea.

"Why are you here, Brother-Logis?" Felix said as he spotted Cicero, "Have you come to gloat?"

"I stand by what I said," Cicero said defiantly, "It was not our duty to protect any of them."

"Then why are you here?" Felix asked, anger rising in his voice.

"To honor her," Cicero replied reasonably, "For reminding me of a greater duty that we all share."

Felix had not been expecting that answer. In a more conciliatory tone, he asked, "And what duty is that?"

"That we must all protect each other," Cicero said, before turning to face Felix. He offered his hand.

Felix paused only for an instant, before taking a step forward to take it.


End file.
